


Tears

by loveydoveyowo



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 10:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17486318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveydoveyowo/pseuds/loveydoveyowo
Summary: Max went to this spot, always, to let out his frustration.Neil sometimes goes after him.





	Tears

**Author's Note:**

> SO I WAS CRYING AND THOUGHT TO MYSELF “GEE ISNT IT SAD I DONT HAVE GOOD PARENTS TO CRY OUT FOR” AND THEN I THOUGHT
> 
> MAX
> 
> so here u go

He’s been walking endlessly for an hour now.

The forest was calm. The grass beneath his feet is worn and small, giving way to huge mounds of dirt and rock. Thick maple trees blocked out most of the moon’s luminous light, and Max couldn’t see his surroundings.

Max knew this terrain well, however. Whenever he felt off, he came to this area. He knew, for example, that the biggest tree he’s ever seen clutched this large mound of dirt and rock with its roots. He knew to grip on the one that hung low and pull himself up, balance on it to step on the other, then jump to your right, cling for a bit, swing..

It’s like a dance. Except at the end of it, Max’s hands are dirtied and scratched, the sleeves of his jacket coated with moist dirt, and his shoes slippery.

The slight exercise ached his muscles the right way. He sat at the base of the large tree, tucking his hands inside of his pockets and leaning back. If he squinted, or tilted his head back against the bark that was probably littered with ants, he could see the moon through the thick branches and leaves.

Max exhale was ragged. It felt as if his throat was clogged up with a cloud of rain and lightning. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, rushing and chasing after each other, taking twists and turns into the corners of his mind and slowly wearing down every resolve he had like crumbling brick walls.

He hated crying.

Max furiously wiped at his eyes with the palm of his hands, keeping his mouth shut. With each sob he muffled, the pressure in his throat increased. Would he look like a frog if he didn’t sob? Cry out for mommy and daddy?

Mommy and daddy. Rich, Max.

Max allowed a little noise that sounded a lot like gurgling. In a fit, he threw the hoodie over his personal wilderness of hair and tightened it over his face. He let the tears soak through the cloth and held his knees firmly to his chest.

A rustle from his right. Max felt his eyes snap open. They brush against the hoodie, tight around his upper face.

He heard several grunts and cursed and felt his muscles go lax. The only people that knew he goes here on a regular was Neil, Nikki, and David.

He felt rather than heard Neil flop beside him, panting in exhaustion. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “How can your stick of an ass climb up here every day?”

Max sniffles as quietly as he could. Neil didn’t take notice, it seemed, so he made sure his voice wasn’t wobbly before he spoke. “I thought you were Jewish.”

His voice cracked in the middle of his sentence, and he internally cursed.

Neil didn’t seem to think much on it. Max didn’t know if he is grateful or irritated. “Ha, ha. Aren’t you atheist? You scream God’s name every day.”

Max chuckled and tilted his head, so his cheek was rested against his knee.

They grew silent. They basked in each other’s comforting presence with no other sound except for the rustling of leaves.

Max still felt terrible, but he knew he’ll get better. He usually does. He took a shuttering breath and hiccuped. “Fuck.”

Neil’s shoulder pressed against his own. “Okay?”

Max started to nod, but then another sob wormed it’s way out of his throat.

No tears came out, though, through his own sheer will. He tilted his head back, like a little girl trying to keep her makeup from running.

Neil kept silent. Max ripped his hood off and glared hatefully at his hands, refusing to meet his friend’s eyes.

Neil hesitated. He reached out and wiggled his hand behind Max’s back and drew him into a side hug.

Max, emotionally exhausted, took the comfort as it is and closed his eyes.

“You know when you cry or get sad, you cry out for your mom or dad?” He murmured. Neil hummed, electing for him to continue.

“Isn’t it sad, then, when you’re in pain or sadness and you couldn’t call out to anyone?” Max made a noise in his throat. “Because there isn’t anyone there. No one to help you, no one to hug you and comfort you.”

Neil yawned, and Max turned his eyes up to his face, offended. “I’m over here pouring my heart out and you’re yawning?”

“It’s two in the morning,” Neil replied, pushing Max’s head back down against his shoulder. “And I was kind of getting tired of your bullshit.”

“Excuse—“

“You’re pouring your heart to me,” Neil interrupted, voice smooth and low. “You have someone to cry out to. Me, bitch. Now go to sleep.”

Max opened his mouth. Closed it. He pursed his lips and snuggled back into Neil’s side. “... fucker.”

“Love you, too.”


End file.
